Michael knew better than to call the number immediately. He was too emotional to make any rational decision. For some reason, Jefferson came to mind, "Delay is preferable to error."

Fi was strangely quiet except for one comment about never getting a spot out of her new sundress. She set it to soak and came back to find Michael sitting on the bed. Not wanting to crowd him, she sat down next to him and laid a hand softly on his knee, "What can I do for you Michael? "

He shook his head. "She's right Fi. I got Nate killed."

"No Michael," she couldn't help wanting to be closer. She hugged him tight around his shoulders. "Your brother would have done anything for you. He wanted to be there to help you get Anson."

"He shouldn't have been there. I never would have put a civilian in such a dangerous position. I was too obsessed on getting Anson." He shook his head in disbelief, "I could feel it. I could feel how close we were getting."

Fi choked back tears. She wanted to be strong for Michael. If she lost it too he would want to comfort her. "Nate wasn't a civilian Michael, he was your brother. If he had known where Anson was he would have gone after him without you even asking."

Tears started down Michael's face. He rested his head in his hands and started rocking back and forth. "The last thing I said to him was how he was screwing up our chances to get you out and then I told him to leave."

"I don't understand."

Michael couldn't look at Fi. "I told him to leave because he was jeopardizing the mission and when we found out Anson was near the airport, I called Nate." Michael ran his tear soaked hands through his hair. "I told Nate just to find him, just to watch him until we got there. I should have known better."

Fi tried not to react. This was the first time she was hearing of their last words. She knew Nate was there to help, for transportation only, she thought. She didn't know Michael had angrily sent him away just to call him back. Fiona had plenty of guilt about Nate's death too.

She had turned herself in hoping to make this nightmare stop and it only made things worse. With her in jail and facing extradition to the U.K, she had put Michael under more to find Anson. She pushed her own feelings aside. "No matter what you said Michael, you loved Nate. He knew that and you've both been there for each other, always. He would have done anything for you and you for him." Fi brushed the hair from Michael's forehead.

Michael knew he couldn't keep on this like this, he had to get his shit together. He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. "What do you think of our visitor?"

Fi lay back on the bed, pulling Michael down next to her. She leaned against him, resting on her elbow, draping her other arm across his chest. "I don't know. She was in our house Michael. She could have killed us both the moment we walked through the door. Hell, she could have killed us from six blocks away."

"Honor among assassins?" he quipped, drawing lazy circles on her forearm with his fingers.

"I don't know about honor but she was no amateur." Fi laid her head on Michael's chest.

Mike sat up suddenly, "Oh shit, I need to call Pierce."

"Michael, that woman said we were to back off. Do you really want to involve Pierce?"

"This is too big Fi. I can't leave Pierce or the agency out of this." Michael pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "And they need to get a forensics team over here." Michael paused mid-dial, "Fi, she didn't say they had to stop looking." He looked at her, "she only said that I had to stop." Michael finished dialing the number.

In less than 20 minutes Peirce was at the loft with a small army of crime scene techs. "Well, we checked the phone number. It goes to a burn phone, manufactured two years and activated last week."

Michael shook his head, he shouldn't be surprised. "Prints?"

"Oh yeah, we found prints all over the place. That being the case, I doubt we'll find match to anyone."

"What do you mean 'all over'?" Fi looked at Michael.

"Yup, prints in every room." Pierced headed for the door, "we'll run them of course, but like I said, the fact that she didn't to avoid leaving any means they'll probably lead no where."

It was early morning of day two before Michael decided to call Sam. Everyone had decided to "take a break" after Nate's death. Other than a few text messages he hadn't spoken to Sam in a couple weeks.

Sam picked up the phone after just one ring. Considering how early it was he sounded wide awake, "How you doing Mike?"

"I need your help Sam." Michael immediately regretted those words. He'd said them far too often in the last six years.

There was no hesitation in Sam's response, "Sure, wattya need?"

Michael looked around the loft. The forensic team had really done a number on it. Fi had been up for an hour already, still cleaning up, still pissed and wiping down (for the second time) every object the intruder might have touched. "I'll come to you. Where are you?"

"Where else brother, Carlito's."

"'I'll be there in an hour." Mike hung up the phone

Even from a distance Michael could see Sam sitting at his usual patio table. Michael shook his head. Sam's shirts could be seen from space.

Sam finally saw Michael and waved him over. As Michael got closer he saw that Sam wasn't alone. Michael stopped at the bar to order a drink. The woman seated with Sam wasn't Elsa. Sam's girlfriend had long dark hair. Michael could tell, even with her seated, that this woman was taller, never mind the fact she also had very short blond hair.

Sam waved Michael over again. Michael smiled, nodded and headed over.

Sam was still laughing, wiping a tear from his eye when Michael reached the table. "Damn girl, you've got some stories!" Michael couldn't recall the last time he'd seen Sam laugh so hard.

Michael tried to squash the feeling of frustration that Sam had a guest. He needed to talk to him alone but he also liked seeing his friend in good spirits. Michael planted a smile firmly on his face.

"Hey Mikey, I want to you meet Anna. Anna, this is my good buddy Mikey." Sam got up to grab a chair for his buddy.

"Hello Michael, it's nice to meet you." Anna smiled warmly taking his hand into hers.

Michael physically felt his heart stop. The woman who was casually sitting across from Sam, who was now softly holding his hand was the same woman who killed his brother, killed Anson and just 48 hours ago threatened to take his life.

He opened his mouth to speak but the words became stuck in his throat. Though neither he nor Fiona had gotten a close look at her face, some features were distinctive. The eyes, cheekbones, smile and voice, her voice was unmistakable.

Michael recovered as best he could. He squeezed her hand a little harder, "Nice to meet you too Anna." She returned his firm grip. Her eyes fixed on his, her warm smile unwavering.

Michael must have hid his emotions well enough because Sam was oblivious to the exchange between them. He shoved a chair behind Michael's knees, "Have a seat!" Sam waived to the waitress that they needed another round.

Michael's head was swimming. What to do! Think fast! The bar was nearly empty; Sam could take care of himself. Michael was sure he could drop this "Anna" bitch to the floor before she knew what hit her. It was then he realized that her left hand was hidden under the tablecloth.

"Anna, tell Mike the one about the shoemaker and burro." Sam started to chuckle again, "Ya gotta hear this Mike."

Michael had finally let Anna's hand free and pulled the chair closer to her. "Yeah, I'd like to hear this story."

Anna turned her attention back to Sam and smiled. "I'm sorry, I have to run."

"So soon?" Sam didn't hide his disappointment

Anna rose and both gentlemen stood up with her. Michael moved a little too quick causing his chair to tip over.

"Problem there Mikey?" Sam frowned

A tiny smirk crossed Anna's face. She raised her left hand slowly and slipped on her sunglasses. She leaned over and whispered something into Sam's ear. As she turned to leave, Sam started grinning like a school boy.

Michael pushed past a waitress who was seating tourists on the patio. She was getting on that bike again. What to do! He was sure he could yank her off the bike. He stopped after two steps. She wasn't trying to get away but looking at him in her rear view mirror. Even without being able to see her face or eyes, her body language was all too clear, don't even try it.

Sam appeared beside him on the sidewalk "Mike, what wrong?

Mike watched her ride off, yet again, "Sam," it turned to look at his friend, "you just had drinks with Nate's killer."